


The lost prince.

by the_sparrow



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Friendship, Inspired by The Song of Achilles, M/M, Minor Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Mystery, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, also lowkey inspired by game of thrones but blink and youll miss it, i guess, just a bit though, more tags to be added as the story processes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16365617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sparrow/pseuds/the_sparrow
Summary: Steven is the eldest and only son of Lord Rogers of the West. He's a righteous young man, loved by the lords and townsfolk. Engaged to Lady Margaret Carter as of lately, Steve lives a calm life, until he decides to take a break of his duties and walk by the beach, where he will meet the mysterious man that calls himself Bucky. Will his life remain the way it was before?





	1. Chapter 1

 Steve wasn't the one to disappoint his parents. He wasn't the one to go against their orders, always working to please them, to be the perfect son. And that's what he was doing now as well. That's why he didn't complain about his arranged marriage to Margaret Carter.

 

 There wasn't a reason to complain anyway though. What was there to complain about? The Carters were a very prestigious family from the West, such as his family. And Margaret was a beauty. Fair skin that matched porcelain, and eyes warm and welcoming. Men envied Steve, for he was the one that would marry, that would bed Margaret. Everyone craved his fate, except for Steve himself.

 

  Steve pressured himself, talking to himself every night before he slept. He had to convince himself that Margaret was a catch, that what he would have, others could only dream of. He tried to remind himself of the childhood love he and she shared. But deep inside his heart, he knew that this was long forgotten by both of them.

 

 Margaret knew of all this, of course. She was one of Steve's closests friends, they trained together, they played together, since they both learned to walk. She was a smart woman, Margaret. She could easily see Steve's uneasiness, where others saw confidence and dominance. 

 

 “I don't want this as much as you do.” She told him one night, as he and she strolled through the maze of her lord father. “You are my friend, Stevie, and that won't change when you become my lord husband.” She whispered, taking his strong hands in her soft ones. 

“And hey, better together than with strangers, right?” That's the one thing that kept him from calling the engagement off.

 

 Their days came and went busy, once the engagement was on, but their lives moved on as normal. They'd have dinners with their families, dressed in fine suits and stunning gowns, meet with other lords and ladies, and then Steve would escort Margaret back to the Carter Mansion. 

 

 However, that would come to change eventually. One humid summer night, after escorting Margaret back to her house, Steve found himself wandering further away from the rich neighborhoods, and walked closer to the calm sea. Had his mother, lady Sarah saw him, he would receive a scolding of a lifetime.  _ “Your clothes, the fine velvet ought to get destroyed by the water and the sand!”  _ She would've said, thought Steve and laughed to himself.

 

  He always loved the quiet side of the beach. Away from the fishermen and the boats that came and went, like they never seemed to end. Here it was silent, the 

pale light of the moon illuminating on his sun kissed face, as the stars twinkled like they were dancing in their own rhythm.

 

 The low sound of the petite waves reaching the shore as well as the sound of the quiet breeze had Steve closing his eyes, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He focused on those sounds as well, and on the feeling of the sand beneath his bare feet. He didn't even remember taking his fancy, polished shoes off. Every time he went there he felt different, as if his body had a mind of its own.

 

 And that's why he failed to notice the cat-like steps slowly approach him. Eyes grey and fierce like a storm watched his every move, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out.  _ Ethereal _ , he looked, enchanting everyone that laid their eyes upon his figure at that moment. 

 

  A sharp intake of breath was heard as Steve's hand run through his golden locks, and that's what awakened the young lord from his trance. He turned sharply, alarmed, his hand leaving his hair and it now hovered over the hilt of his sword. He waited, till a figure stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

 

 His breath was cut at his throat, and his eyebrows furrowed. It was a man, much larger than him, taller, with more muscle. He looked like a beast, with cold, unforgiving grey eyes, long dark hair and a beard to match. The man had a blade in his hand, his only hand, Steve noted, as he seemed to be missing an arm, and his own hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. 

 

“Let go of the blade.” Steve ordered, voice steady dominating. The man, surprising Steve, nodded, and his blade hit the sand. The young lord raised an eyebrow, and before he could speak, the man cut him off.

 

“I didn't mean to frighten you, Lord Rogers.” He spoke calmly, and his voice sounded deep and raspy, like he seldom used it. Confident in himself, the man stepped closer, noticing Steve's hand still holding the sword, alarmed.

 

 “Who are you, how do you know my name?” Steve asked, curious and alarmed as always.

 

 “Your family's sigil,” The other said, “It's embroidered on your clothes.” He said casually, Steve's face feeling warm suddenly.

 

 “Oh.” Steve muttered, and the male smirked at his embarrassment, making him shift his gaze elsewhere. “You never told me your name.” He coughed, changing the focus of the conversation to spare himself the embarrassment.

 

 “I am Bucky.” He replied, and that playful smirk on his face formed into a smile. Steve's eyes caught it quickly, and his heart sped up at the slightest.

 

“What's your family name?” Steve asked, and Bucky's smile left as fast as it came.

 

“I don't have a family.” Was the cold reply that Steve received, and he let out a sigh. Out of everything that he could say…

 

“I'm sorry, Bucky. I did not mean to offend.” 

 

Bucky only nodded, stormy eyes meeting the seemingly endless sea in front of him. As he stared off, Steve found the opportunity to gaze at him, and take in everything there was about him. He wore clothes that Steve could only call rags, torn and dirtied, and the sleeves of his shirt were missing. He was covered in scars, and there was an especially large one at his shoulder, on the side of his missing arm. 

 

“Where are you from?” He asked him after a while, wanting to know more of what Bucky was. Steve loved to talk and help the townsfolk, and he remembered every single one of their faces. Bucky's face however, was as unknown to him as what lied at the bottom of the ocean. 

 

“What does it matter?” Bucky asked, and for the first time in what seemed hours, met Steve's gaze. “What difference would it make if I was of the East, or of the North. I'm here now, and while I'm here, I am of the West.” 

 

 Steve was at loss of words. Not once in his life did he meet a person to not care of heritage or family names. From the king's court, all the way to the townsfolk, everyone spoke of their family trees, their ancestors and where they came from. 

 

 “Lord Steven!” The voice of a young boy was heard, and Steve turned to stare at the child that called for him. It was Toby, one of his Lord father's stable boys. “Lord Rogers asked of me to find you! He said it's too late to be wandering outside of the city!” 

 

 Steve sighed. He was a grown man, soon to be married, he could stay away from his house for five nights if that's what he desired! He opened his mouth, ready to tell Toby to return home and inform his father that he'd stay out longer, but Bucky caught him off once more. 

 

 “Go. Your father is right. It's dangerous out here.” He said simply, and before Steve could disagree, Bucky had already retrieved his falled blade and just like that, turned to walk away. “Good night, Lord Rogers.” And just like that, he walked away, once again disappearing into the shadows. 

 

 Steve wanted to follow him, but decided against it. “Good night, Bucky.” He whispered to no one, and, after putting on his shoes, he walked to meet young Toby. Together they walked back to the Rogers’ Mansion.

 

 Of course, just as expected, he received a scolding from his father and a relieved hug from his mother, who didn't seem to notice the bits of sand that were still covering his shoes. 

 

The maids had prepared a hot bath for him, for which he was grateful, and as he soaked into the water he thought of Bucky, numerous questions clouding his mind. His fingers run absentmindedly over the surface of the water.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve decides to return to the beach, hoping Bucky would come there tonight as well

The sun rose, and Steve got off his king sized bed, walking around the house with a skip in his step. The maids giggled amongst themselves as they watched him, muttering about his romance with Margaret.

Of course, this wasn't the reason Steve was excited. Since last night, he couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious Bucky he met by the beach. He managed to have Steve's curiosity get the best of him, and he was already plotting to go back to the beach, in hopes of seeing the man and learning more about his identity.

But before he could do that, he had to go through his normal day as if nothing happened. He wouldn't tell anyone about Bucky, he found it would do more harm than good. He wanted to tell Margaret, he trusted her with his life, but in his gut he knew he should keep his mouth shut. He didn't wanna involve anyone into this situation, especially since there was a possibility Bucky was actually dangerous. Steve didn't feel that was the case, but he still chose to say quiet.

His day went on as normal. Meeting up with his beloved Margaret for tea and a walk through the town, then having dinner with his parents and her. He was careful enough when they asked him questions about the previous night, making sure no one was suspicious.

Soon enough, the sun set, and Steve, being the gentleman he was, had to escort Margaret to the Carter's mansion. With a kiss on her pale cheek, he bid her a goodnight before he walked off, heading towards the lonely beach rather than his own house. He had already told everyone he'd be late, so he didn't have to worry about any surprises.

The moon's light reflected on his face, making his masculine features more prominent as his bright eyes seemed to illuminate in the dimly lit space. He looked around him with curiosity, wondering if Bucky would appear again. Questions clouded his mind, questions he was hoping to ask him if he saw him.

  
As time passed however, he found himself losing hope. He watched as the moon slowly switched positions in the night sky as the hours passed. He was sat on the golden sand by then, mindlessly drawing patterns on it as he waited and waited.

It seemed the Gods were in Steven's favour though, since after a few hours of waiting, he heard footsteps approach. His eyes lit up, and he turned his head to see who it was. And aye, it was him. Bucky.

Steven didn't move from his place on the ground, but he offered the man a gentle smile.

"Hello." He greeted, and watched him, patiently waiting for a reaction.

Bucky didn't speak. His pale eyes gazed at him, his face unreadable. At last, after a few minutes, he nodded at Steven, as if he just noticed his presence.

The young lord didn't quite know what to say to Bucky, all the questions he was planning to ask thrown out of the window. He didn't wanna scare Bucky away, or anger him.   
He was like a wild cat, cautious and mysterious, and seemingly unapproachable. And Steve knew to not approach him. He merely watched from afar, knowing that Bucky would come if he wished.

And so, he simply offered him another small smile, before turning to face the sea. He could feel Bucky's eyes, burning into the back of his skull, watching him with caution and curiosity. He almost turned around to look at him again, but stopped himself. It would show expectation, and he wanted Bucky to move on his own accord.

After some time, he heard the sound of the other taking a seat besides Steven, a few feet away from him. That's when he turned to look at him, and to his surprise, Bucky wasn't staring at him any longer. The man was looking forward, staring at the place where the stars drowned in the water. A small smile graced his face.

Steven saw this as an opportunity to take a better look at Bucky. He saw the same, stained rugs that once might've been clothes. He saw the scars on his only, naked arm. He saw his face, masculine and prominent, giving an air of dominance and power. His dark eyebrows where furrowed over his ghostly eyes, and his body was relaxed. He smiled and looked away.

"I rather like this place." Steve said gently, staring at the twinkling stars above the dark water. "It feels as if I am in a different place, away from everyone. The silence is healing."

"Indeed." Was all Bucky said before he let out a quiet sigh. Steve turned to watch him again. This time he was staring at the ground, where the waves kissed the sand. Melancholy was painted on his handsome features, and Steven wondered why.

"Where are you from?" He asked after a while, and noticed Bucky's body tensing.

"Far." Was the only reply he got.

His eyebrows knitted together. He wondered what he should say next.

"How did you end up here?" His voice was laced with kindness, and it came out as a gentle whispered. He figured this was a touchy subject for the other man.

Bucky bit his lip.

"It wasn't planned. I just walked and eventually I ended up here." He spoke lowly, his voice deep and low.

"Why did you leave..?" Steve asked after a while, breaking the silence that had formed.

"I felt like it." His voice was final, and Steve decided that was enough for that night. As they sat in silence, he recalled last night's events.

"My name is Steve." He said suddenly

That startled the other man, who had managed to relax again in the peace they were previously in, even having closed his eyes.

"What?" He asked, turning to look at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

"My name is Steve. You knew my family's name, now you know mine." He chuckled at the other's surprise.

Bucky relaxed, and an amused expression appeared on his face. "I do know your name. The young boy called you by it last night, if I remember correctly." He smirked at the other.

Steve's face was warm.

"Well, now I least introduced myself to you properly!" He exclaimed to save himself.

Then, something unexpected happened. Bucky laughed. It was a small chuckle, but it had Steve in surprise, before he chuckled along, letting himself calm down.

After his little fit came to an end, Bucky took a look at Steve's appearance.

"I see you are missing your sword." He said in an amused tone. " 'Tis dangerous out here." He said, repeating himself from yesterday. "Aren't you afraid I'll try to stab you?" He joked.

"No, not really. You haven't taken out a blade on me. Not yet at least." Steve laughed, and Bucky laughed along.

After their laughter died down, Bucky looked at the ground rather than Steve, a confused expression on his face.

"Why did you come here tonight?" Bucky asked.

" _I felt like it."_ Steve smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve spends some quality time with his betrothed and Bucky.

Steve and Bucky had stayed at the beach till the sun was rising in the horizon. For the most part, they kept quiet, and when they didn't, they had a light-hearted conversation about the constellations in the sky.

When it was time for Steve to go home, a silent promise lingered between them. That they would come again, the night after. Steve walked through the empty streets of the town, a calm and happy expression on his tanned face. This went much, much better than what he had expected.

And after taking a short bath and changing into silk pyjamas, he thought of him, staring at the ceiling that hid the stars.

The next morning Steve was in a great mood. The young lord always was a positive person, however on that particular day his smiles reflected the sun.

His day went on as normal. He talked with the maids, and the squires, Margaret and her family, and the townsfolk. Everyone could tell that this particular morning, Lord Steven Rogers was happy because of something. Most suspected because of Margaret. She herself though, knew it was something else.

"You seem quite merry today, Steve." She noted as they sipped their tea, her chocolate coloured eyes looking through him.

 _Intuitive as always,_ Steve thought to himself and smiled. He sensed the question in her words.

"I had a pleasant dream last night." He told her. "It was us, when we were children, Peggy. In your grandfather's field, remember?" He grinned at her. It wasn't a complete lie, for that was what he really dreamed of. However this wasn't the cause of his happiness..

She nodded.

"How could I forget! We spent most of our time there, Steve." She grinned back, showing her pearly white teeth.

"Indeed! I can still hear my father's angry voice scolding me after I came home after the sunset. They both chuckled at that.

Talking with Peggy was one of his favourite things to do. To him, talking to her was like travelling back in time. A time when he was young and free, playing with his best friend without being engaged to her.

They talked for hours, and it was just him and her. There were not their parents, nor any maids nor squires. In her room, they were not Lord Steven and Lady Margaret, the most famous couple of their time. It was Steve and Peggy, best friends since theycameoutofthe womb.

Steve missed this, truth be told. He missed his long, light-hearted conversations with her. As all good things, however, that day ended as well. Normally, he would be saddened, but he knew another friend awaited him. He kissed Peggy's forehead, and after bidding her and her parents a goodnight, he headed home.

Of course, Steven didn't return home early that night either. His parents were getting used to him staying out, and just let him do as he pleased. Plus, he was a grown man now, he couldn't be held back, even if they tried.

And that went on for a full month. Steven would head to the abandoned beach once the sun had set, to meet with Bucky. The latter was feeling more and more at ease with the former as the days passed, Steven noticed.

One night Bucky confessed that he had a deep love for astronomy. Steve didn't find this to be odd. He had watched numerous times Bucky go on about the stars and planets that were visible.  
Still, he smiled.

Another night, Steve had told him about lady Margaret Carter. He went on about the engagement, and how neither of them were on board with it in the beginning.

"Consider yourself lucky for this, Steve." Bucky had replied, Steve recalled. His tone was enigmatic, as if there was a hidden message behind his words. Steve decided not to ask.

In regards to Bucky's past, Steven hadn't tried to get anything out of him. He believed it would ruin the relationship (friendship?) the two managed to build this past month.

"Bucky, why can't we meet in the day?" He asked once.

"It's safer this way." Steve regretted asking. Bucky obviously didn't wanna elaborate on his reply, and Steve nodded, dropping the subject.

"I always wondered if they really are infinite." The brunette mused after a while.

Steve turned to face him.

"The stars, I mean. When I was younger, I used to try and count them. I always gave up at the end though. Only to do the same the other night."

Bucky's stormy eyes gazed at the sand, a gentle smile on his face, although his eyes were painted with sadness. Nostalgia. Steve bit his lip.

"Why did you stop trying?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean?" He questioned, his voice quiet and confused.

"If I were you, I'd keep trying. Maybe at some point, you'd get an answer." Steve smiled gently.

Bucky smiled back.

"Why don't you count with me, then?" Steve's heart felt light in his chest. He nodded.

The two were laying on the soft sand besides eachother, Bucky's only hand raised as he pointed at the stars, counting them with Steve echoing the numbers in the background.

They kept going, chuckling here and there at the other's commentary, till the sun rose and the stars were starting to disappear. They stood.

"Remember the number, okay? We'll continue this tomorrow." Steve smiled and patted Bucky's good shoulder. The latter nodded with a smile of his own.

As Steve laid in his bed that night (well, morning) he thought of Bucky. He found himself immensely intrigued by his mysterious friend. He thought about his knowledge of the stars, wondering how a person like Bucky knew this much about them.

Unfortunately, at that period, only the rich had access to education as difficult as astronomy. Steven was never the one to judge another based on their money or job, or any of that. It was part of his charm, of why people loved him. Still, he found himself in deep confusion. He decided to bring up the topic next night.  
  



End file.
